


He ate my heart then he ate my brain

by weepingnaiad



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Missing Scene, Strike Team Delta, Trope Bingo Round 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1687829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ward reports to Garrett that he didn't complete his first objective on Coulson's team.  The answer why surprises him.  His next objective surprises him even more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He ate my heart then he ate my brain

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** My dearest, abigail89, gave this a once over for me. Of course, I can't help but fiddle afterwards, so any mistakes are all on me.
> 
>  **A/N:** Title taken from Lady Gaga's "Monster".

"Report, Agent," John says as Ward steps into the small office John's holed up in for now. There are SHIELD logos on files and equipment, but the men outside, guarding the door are no more SHIELD than John, or Ward, himself, is.

"Coulson's soft, and he likes to give speeches," Ward answers.

"Nothing new there. I put you onto his team to get me intel I _don't_ have." John hasn't looked up, his focus on the dual computer screens in front of him.

Ward shifts, fights for the right words, before saying, "John, I think your intel about Coulson was wrong."

John's eyes flick up to Ward, then back down to the screens. He types for a couple of more seconds, time stretching uncomfortably as Ward grits his jaw to keep from fidgeting in the silence.

Then John stands and that's worse. His eyes bore into Ward, drawing out every secret, every thought he'd keep for himself. 

"What intel _exactly_ are you referring to?" John asks, voice carrying that cold sneer that makes Ward's gut ache.

"He's not gay!" Ward blurts out. "He can't be!" Ward catches himself, curses his lack of control before straightening to take whatever retaliation John metes out.

Instead of a blow, John claps him on the shoulder and grins. "You couldn't get him interested?"

Ward's voice has fled so he only shakes his head.

"Guess you're not his type--"

"I'm everybody's type, sir," Ward interrupts.

The smile John gives him is sharp, feral, calculating.

"You're no Hawkeye, kid."

Ward's brain goes offline.

"Don't stand there with your thumb up your ass. I fully briefed you."

"Coulson _died,_ sir. Stabbed in the back by Loki while Hawkeye was taking down the Helicarrier."

John gets in Ward's face. "That was _then._ But before… didn't you read the entire report?" he asks, voice daring Ward to say he hadn't.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, did it, or did it not mention in great detail Strike Team Delta?"

"Yes, but what--"

"For cripe's sake! Don't be stupid! Read between the lines! If you're not going to use your brain at least use the training I gave you! _Think_ , son. Why in the hell would I include so much information about Strike Team Delta in a report about Phil Coulson?"

Ward takes a breath and does not wince. John had broken him of that instinct years ago. He takes a moment and sifts through everything he remembers from the briefing on Coulson; what had been in it, but now he considers _why_ something had been provided. Motivation has never been Ward's strong suit. He never gives a damn why a person acts because thinking along those lines require him to consider his target as something -- some _one_ \-- with emotions, with feelings, with thoughts. That way lies madness and doubt and would screw things up, affect his aim. Grant Ward is a weapon, point him at a target and get out of his way. The thing is, Coulson doesn't work that way. He's exactly the opposite, always insisting they get in the target's head. Ward had thought it was a waste, but now John is insisting that he consider Coulson's past and what motivates him.

Then it clicks.

"I'm someone for Coulson to fix. Barton and Romanoff? They were, too."

John looks proud and Ward stands straighter, smiles. "The rumors around those three were legendary," John says.

"They were damned near unstoppable, sir. So what happened? Why is Coulson running around on the bus while Romanoff and Barton are free agents?"

John shrugs. "Coulson died. Fury lied. And he doesn't want the Avengers to know. There's likely more to it knowing Fury, but for now, we don't give a shit about any of that."

"So Coulson and Hawkeye?" Ward asks, still trying to wrap his head around that idea. "Forgive me for saying so, but I call bullshit. Coulson is too buttoned up and Barton was most definitely doing Romanoff."

"Most definitely, huh?" John crosses his arms and leans on his desk.

Ward feels his ears go hot. He clears his throat. "There were, uh, a couple of surveillance videos…"

John snorts and then gives a belly laugh. "Hell, son, I don't blame you. Those two would be fuckin' hot together!" He adjusts himself in his pants and then his face turns serious. "Despite evidence to the contrary, I knew Phil before Delta. I saw him during. He was getting laid pretty regularly and maybe it was Romanoff, but he wore that smile even before they brought her in. So what's the problem?"

Ward thinks fast, knows how to shift his plans based on new intel, but this is a lot to take in. Coulson's capable, but he doesn't seem to be strong enough, dynamic enough, or hell, even tough enough to keep the Black Widow and Hawkeye in line, let alone be the third member of a legendary team. 

His doubt must show in his face because John shakes his head and looks at him. "I told you not to underestimate Coulson. He's more than he seems, always has been. Hell, he saved my life more times than I want to count."

"Then, what--"

"You know what. You know _why._ The question is, how are you going to get what we need?"

John is patient, but his time is running out and he always gets annoyed when Ward can't figure out where he's going with an idea, especially when he feels like it's obvious.

"I-I don't know, sir."

John sighs, disappointed, and Ward's shoulders sag. "May," he says.

"May?" Ward echoes. "Agent Melinda May?" He's still missing something.

"You're going to sleep with her."

Ward's heart rate ratchets up and he tenses his leg muscles to keep from sucking in a harsh breath. "She's an ice queen. No way in hell--"

John laughs. "You don't know shit about Melinda May, son. Coulson couldn't save her and she left the field."

"But she's on the plane now?" Ward questions.

"And back in it," John's leading Ward again and he doesn't want to miss it this time.

"Wait, you said Coulson couldn't save her before?" When John nods, Ward continues, "So he cares about her. Wants to 'fix' her, too?"

"Bullseye."

"She's a weakness for him."

"Emotions always are, kid."

Ward straightens. "How do you suggest I--"

"Let her 'fix' you." John's grin is more leer and his eyes sparkle. "You can do that, can't you?"

Ward grins. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now get the hell out. I've got work to do and you don't want to be missed."

"Thank you, sir."

By the time Ward reaches the door, John is already engrossed in whatever is on the computer screens.

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** This satisfies my trope_bingo square: _matchmaker_.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** These are Marvel and Whedon and ABC's characters used in the spirit of creative commons. I promise to return them with smiles on.


End file.
